Albert nodded, “Then, we’ll meet at the spaceport.”
Wilhelmina walked a few steps, then turned back and asked, “You won’t be blaring military music to see me off, will you?”
Albert laughed, “My princess, I will ensure it’s a pleasant melody.”
The Vanacy was an exquisite civilian spacecraft that had served Wilhelmina’s father Adams for ten years. Though small, it was equipped with advanced facilities, crucial for a week-long journey.
At the spaceport, Wilhelmina hugged her loved ones goodbye.
Cairns hugged her for a long time: “We will definitely meet again soon.”
“I know,” Wilhelmina said, slightly choked up. “You must miss me.”
“With every breath,” Cairns whispered. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Wilhelmina’s eyes grew wet.
The two princesses’ flagships took off one after another.
Wilhelmina stood below, watching Cairns’ figure in the observation cabin grow smaller until the spacecraft disappeared into a star in the night sky.
“Your Highness,” Albert said, walking to her side, “Your flagship is ready.”
Wilhelmina gazed at the sky, softly lamenting, “I wish to transform into millions of stars, vast and inclusive, spanning infinitely, holding light and eternity in my palm.” She recited a famous quote by Emperor Wolreich.
The military music began to play, a melodious song celebrating friendship. The night wind carried the music, slightly fragmented, yet beautiful.
Wilhelmina turned to Albert and activated the sound shield. “Is what you said that day still valid, Lord Albert?”
Albert, smiling at her, nodded slowly.
Wilhelmina took a deep breath, “Then, sir, I am happy to accept.”
Albert’s tense shoulders relaxed, and he smiled. “You will not regret it, Your Highness,” he said, taking her hand and bowing to kiss it. “So, are we friends?”
Wilhelmina looked into his eyes, replying, “We are partners, which will be more efficient.”
As the Vanacy ascended, Wilhelmina stood before the transparent dome, looking down at Albert below. The handsome young officer raised his hand to his forehead, giving a standard military salute.
Their gazes intertwined, but neither smiled. They understood the challenges ahead.
The flagship passed through the clouds, beginning to accelerate to leave the atmosphere. Wilhelmina fastened her seatbelt and touched the ring her mother gave her, closing her eyes.
Chapter Four: The Last Summer
Author’s note: Owen, whom you’ve been waiting for, is here!
Due to time differences, news of political changes reached the Stri Star Domain just as night fell.
The setting sun resembled blood over the desolate land, strewn with stones and sand. The border drug interdiction patrol team returned to camp, their hover car flying low and kicking up dust.
Soldiers, covered in dust and sweat, jumped from the car, crowding into the open-air bathhouse. Pipes connected from underground sprayed cold water from the faucet. Half-naked men washed while loudly conversing, filled with profanity and crude jokes.
Owen Hans-Borg sat by a boxwood tree at the dormitory entrance, whittling a piece of wood. He planned to make a chess set for Wilhelmina from the only boxwood on the planet as a gift for her eighteenth birthday.
The adjutant ran over, standing at attention and saluting, “Sir, there’s a communication from the capital that requires your attention.”
“Understood,” Hans-Borg replied, placing the wood and tools back in the box, which already contained a half-finished white chess set.
Hans-Borg stood up, brushing wood shavings from his knee, and followed the adjutant to the communication room.
Now twenty-eight years old, he had transformed from a slightly thin youth into a robust figure after six years of field life. The wind and sand had roughened his face, but he retained the refinement he brought from the capital.
Compared to the rough soldiers, Hans-Borg appeared cultured and elegant, which made him stand out in the military. After years of life-and-death experiences, no one underestimated him as a “duchess’s pretty boy.”
The young colonel possessed excellent strategic planning abilities. Every one of his operational plans was flawless, minimizing personnel casualties. Although slightly weak in hand-to-hand combat, he was one of the top marksmen and spacecraft pilots in the military. Young, handsome, and distinguished, he was admired by logistics servicewomen.
Everyone knew Hans-Borg had been banished to this harsh border drug interdiction team for offending someone. However, in this desolate no-man’s land, people had their own set of rules.
Only the strong and capable earned respect, regardless of imperial power or support. Hans-Borg had earned his team’s respect through his genuine abilities.
In the communications office, Hans Borg sat in front of the central communicator, receiving orders from the imperial military. His serious expression made his deputy, standing behind him, nervous.
“Understood, sir. I will execute immediately,” Hans Borg replied briefly, then ended the call. He stood, glanced at his uneasy subordinates, and said calmly, “Emergency assembly for all personnel.”
During lunchtime, the emergency assembly alarm frustrated soldiers holding their meal bowls. Nevertheless, they quickly put down their bowls and rushed toward the square.
Hans Borg stood with his hands behind his back, watching the soldiers assemble. Within five minutes, tens of thousands gathered on the training ground. He nodded in satisfaction as his steady voice came through the amplifier.
“My friends, we just received a message from the capital. Her Majesty has defined the Liberal Party as a rebel party. Schneider has fled Odin, and the Rose Palace has issued a full arrest warrant.”
His words caused a commotion among the soldiers.
These soldiers came from the civilian class, many with difficult backgrounds or sent here for offending superiors. Schneider, leading the Democratic Party, had significant influence among them, with many followers.
Hans Borg stated, “The capital’s order is that those who voluntarily quit the Democratic Party will be pardoned. Otherwise, they will be charged with treason.”
“This is coercion!” someone shouted.
“Autocracy! Dictatorship!”
“Quiet—”
“This is oppression of the people!” protests intensified, “Those elites, who occupy over 70% of resources, are enslaving 99% of the people. Go to hell!”
Curses erupted, and the soldiers disregarded discipline, shouting and cursing.
Hans Borg stood on the platform, calm and composed, as battalion commanders tried to quiet their subordinates. Noticing the colonel’s indifference, they began to do nothing.
“Quiet—” After five minutes, Hans Borg spoke in a low voice. His calm tone quickly controlled the situation, silencing the soldiers.
Scanning the crowd, he said, “This is not the time to criticize the regime, soldiers.”
Our country is in a period of political turmoil, and we, the soldiers with guns in hand, have the ability to protect it. We have the right to decide; it’s time to carefully consider our future. Now, dismissed!”
The deputy followed Hans Borg into the quarters, closing the doors and windows before turning on the sound-blocking device.
Hans Borg remained calm, leisurely pouring two cups of coffee. He asked the deputy, “Two sugar cubes?”
“Thank you, sir,” replied the red-haired deputy, sitting with a stern face. “I want to talk to you.”
“No rush, Floti. After a tiring day, enjoy some coffee. This was brought to me by my cousin from far away.”
The deputy held the coffee cup stiffly in the chair opposite the desk. “What are your plans for today’s events?”
Hans Borg stirred the coffee spoon, gently blowing on it, the white mist brushing across his cheek, making his smile look hazy.
“This day was bound to come, and I’ve long been prepared. Aren’t you the same, Floti?”
